Amnesia: A Sister's Despair
by Fan Of Games
Summary: Serra journeyed to a small, secluded village in Ilia to meet a twin sister she never met before. Within the village itself, she is shocked to learn that something happened while she's been in a petrified daze...and unsure if she has amnesia. The village is empty, strange creatures lurk in the shadows while serving an enigmatic nobleman...and her sister is missing. Where did she go?


** Ah, finally, after much time and work, **_Amnesia: A Sister's Despair_** is finished! I began writing this sometime last year or early this year, but either way it still came out as expected and is now ready for you guys to read.**

** For those of you who may have read my other works on this site, this first chapter of **_Amnesia: A Sister's Despair_** will be the last major project I've been working on for a while because other stuff is coming up soon and I need to get that done. So until then, I may most likely write some poems when I have the time to tide you over until I can get another project started—either the first chapter of a major project like this one, or a short story.**

** I guarantee that you'll be seeing more of this fanfic at a later date, but I don't know exactly when because there are other projects I would like to get started. It may be a long while before I actually begin the second chapter, but in the meantime I invite you to read my other fanfics if you're interested.**

** Now, before you begin reading **_Amnesia: A Sister's Despair_**, I recommend you read this story alone, late at night with the lights off while wearing headphones as you listen to music from **_**Amnesia: The Dark Descent**_** and its expansion pack, **_**Justine**_**. This is so you may become fully immersed in the story as it progresses.**

** Lastly, if you have any questions or comments, I shall answer them to the best of my ability in the author's notes of the next chapter. If I forget about your question/comment, please remind me about it in another review and I'll try to get to it then.**

** Disclaimer: I don't own **_**Fire Emblem**_** or **_**Amnesia: The Dark Descent**_** and its expansion pack, **_**Justine**_**. They are owned by Intelligent Systems (and the franchise's publisher, Nintendo, if I'm correct) and Frictional Games, respectively.**

…

_"N-No…th-this can't be happening…It shouldn't!"_

_ "W-Why would she…h-how could she do something so horrible?!"_

_ "I-Is it…Did he make her do it?! For all th-these years?!"_

_ "No, that's not…that isn't possible! I know her; she'd never…"_

_ "Why did this happen…All I did was come to see her…"_

_ "I can't…this mustn't go on any longer."_

_ "I'll take her…and…bring her back to Ostia with me."_

_ "She'll be free…she'll never have to serve him again!"_

_ "If he comes after her, I'll kill him!"_

_ "The village gate…we made it!"_

_ "…just have to…the inn…commission a carriage immediately."_

_ "Our things don't matter...we must escape this place!"_

_ "…need to lie down…have to watch her…"_

_ "She's here with me..."_

_ "She'll never leave my side…I'll never leave hers…"_

_ "…wait…"_

_ "Where is my sister?"_

…

Thunder cracked over the wooden roof above her head, the flash of lighting becoming bright for just a split second that the window lit up as droplets of water dripped down the cracked glass. It had once been a pretty little window, but time had aged it to the point when it no longer retained its original shine, adding to the dust that accumulated over the years from not having been cleaned since its installment.

The furniture, which had once been of decent quality, had now been reduced to rotting somewhat in their respective places along the walls of a relatively small room. The wood was still good, but with so many trees in the area providing for poor craftsmanship, one could understand that production had been pretty unstable in this region. It was so bad the only customers who would purchase such products with what little gold they had were local villagers trying to make a living out of their dreary existence.

Of course, that was in the more poorer areas affected by the sudden decrease in nutrients feeding the soil to make better trees grow taller than the ones around here. If anything, this village was one of the few that fared better than several others, and when compared to those other few that were like it, it was perhaps a more prosperous, if pretty shoddy, place to live.

But beggars couldn't be choosers. The people populating this area were poor, true, but at least they possessed a bit more wealth than the village coming in second place when it came to financial matters. There was even a spectacular view of the horizon from a vista just a mile to the west, some rivers overflowing with cool, clean water, plus a path down to a road leading to two of the major cities in this country, so the inhabitants could head either way to trade and purchase goods from vendors in the market districts. Traveling merchants sometimes found the time to visit for a while to make a bit of gold off of their trade with the locals, a move which could cost them a fortune depending on who was an honest customer and who would swindle them out of much hard earned money, but merchants abroad rarely visited this place whether they had made enough riches or not from their last venture into a populated area or their last sale to a possible consumer they met on the roads.

The village was so cut off from society that not even cavalry or infantry from Ilia's army patrolled the roads in these parts of the country. All the paths winded around in so many zigzags and turns that one could easily go off the beaten path and right into the wooded forests, never to find civilization again. Then again, some people preferred to explore the road less traveled in search of some new discovery, like a shortcut between two places to make for less travel, or some old ruins of a building. However significant they were back then, the locations still stood as a reminder that time would eventually take its toll on landmarks like those.

Plenty of Etrurian mages certainly explored unknown territory when they came out of their dusty libraries filled to the brim with books and magical tomes that it was amazing how they managed to navigate through a room with so many books—and if that was spectacular, imagine what it would be like if a whole building was flooded by books. Of course, those mages would still take a couple tomes with them for protection against bandits and hostile wildlife, along with a vulnerary or two to heal their wounds, or maybe an elixir if they still had enough money left over from purchasing books.

If she were to recall correctly, Erk mentioned that was how his life was like when he wasn't escorting clients wherever they wanted to go. That one would just sit all cooped in his bedroom with the door closed and a book in his hands. What more could be expected from the student of Lord Pent, the former count of Reglay, who had resigned his post as count and continued Archsage Athos' studies? If anything, Erk's reason for being his apprentice seemed to be justified by the need to make his master proud. Although, from the story she heard from Pent's wife, Louise, about Erk once having collapsed from exhaustion and the lack of nutrition because he didn't eat, it didn't sound like they had any expectations of the sort. Truthfully, they didn't have kids of their own so Erk was like the son they never had, granting him the honor of being their foster son. It was a title he'd been initially uncomfortable with, but Erk gradually grew to his new role over time, especially after the campaign against Nergal a year ago. From a letter she had received earlier that year, he was doing quite well, both as Pent's apprentice and the foster son of Reglay's former nobles.

_To Miss Serra of Ostia:_

_ I've received your letter just a few weeks ago, and it somewhat impresses me how you still remain the same as you always are: bouncing around and popping up everywhere, saying things to others without thinking of the consequences. To put it simply, as what our comrades, including Lord Pent and Lady Louise have said, you are, for lack of a better phrase, a ball of energy always in motion, never stopping once to take a break from whatever keeps you occupied. True, I do admire your outgoing nature, but at the same time I disapprove of how reckless you are in your actions._

_I still remember the time when we first met Lady Lyndis of Caelin on our journey to Ostia; you ran headlong into the battle between them and the Ganelon bandits—if I recall their faction correctly—without thinking, and because of that, an arrow from one of the bandit archers embedded itself in my shoulder. While I'm grateful that you at least healed me with your staff, I greatly disliked the fact that you got us involved in a skirmish we had no part of. Though to be honest, I can't blame you for that entirely since Lady Lyndis had proposed that we work together to eliminate the bandits. Afterwards, I stayed by your side throughout the detour to Caelin, assisting Lady Lyndis in preventing her uncle, the usurper known as Lord Lundgren, and eventually brought you to Ostia in the end. In fact, looking back upon that quest which you volunteered us to participate in, as well as our participation in the campaign to stop Nergal—which, may I remind you, was also your idea—I'm now glad to have had gained field experience in my studies of Anima magic, so I wish to extend my gratitude towards you for the knowledge I have gained from those journeys._

_Currently I'm preparing to meet another client in a few days, a mercenary from the Durban Isles who wishes to scout out territory in Etruria for the purpose of establishing a few branch offices of the guild he represents. Aside from the return trip to Etruria, which I'm looking forward to so that I may meet a few old colleagues and revisit old haunts, I'm working hard as Lord Pent's assistant here in the Nabata Desert. We've made much progress in deciphering ancient runes and manuscripts penned during the Scouring, and even the time before that, though it still eludes us as to where one manuscript in particular has gone. It bore no name on the cover, but we theorized it was the oldest manuscript in our possession from examining its condition. By our calculations, it's even older than the time before the Scouring itself. I'm sure we would've located it at some point if we had misplaced it but if it was stolen then it would have been snatched by a thief with knowledge of the Archsage's work. Therefore, in the event it was stolen, we'd like to request for Ostia's assistance in this matter, for their spies are among the best in the whole continent. _

_If their spies hear anything of a dark brown manuscript that appears to be over ten centuries old, please send word to us as soon as you can, if not right away immediately. We'll do our part in searching the Nabata Desert for it, and will send word if we've found it, but until then, track down any leads you might gain, even if they lead to what might later be considered to be trivial and unimportant. I apologize for the vague description, but please be aware that we haven't had a chance to truly study this manuscript yet, so there's a possibility that it may have fallen in the hands of one whose expertise in ancient manuscripts far exceeds our own and plans to utilize whatever its capabilities are for malicious intent._

_We hope to hear from you soon in regards to this issue when you get a chance to write back upon learning of its fate._

_Before I forget, I offer my apologies for not being able to write for a few weeks. I hadn't the time available due to our translating the manuscripts we have, which goes to show that my letters to you may not be written until I have some free time away from work. If I may be so kind, please don't begin another letter until you've received mine. It's arrival may be delayed because Arcadia doesn't have a formal guild for making cross-country delivers across Elibe, and the nearby village which does have a branch of such a guild is miles away, so it'll take around half a day to travel there and the other half to travel back, plus the branch is very small, as it's only made up of a secretary and two messengers._

_Until then,_

_Erk_

_P.S.: And be sure to stay out of trouble._

That was the whole letter in its entirety. Despite feeling like she had been insulted by the wording Erk had used in some parts, Serra was rather glad that he was courteous enough to show gratitude—even if it had come from a gloomy boy who claimed she made his life miserable during their two adventures together.

At first she had grown rather angry when the letter stated she had no regard for the consequences of her actions, and, believing that he was just being rude like usual, she simply crumpled it up and slammed the papers down into the top drawer of her bedroom desk before slamming it shut. Over time, she began think back on that letter and eventually pulled the crumpled, rolled up ball of papers from the drawer, unfolding them so she could make out the words on them to get a sense of the message Erk had conveyed. After skimming through it once, she read through the whole thing thoroughly, nodding her head every so often as she considered his perspective—something Oswin said when he advised her on the thoughts and feelings of other people around her.

Thinking back on their endeavors, Serra remembered all the times when she had to take some matters seriously. Nowadays she could be more carefree as much as she liked, but reading Erk's letter had proved to be a matter of some importance for it had been an evaluation of her character. Serra was willing to improve if someone found a fault with her and Erk's claims certainly appeared to be valid.

Yes, she was reckless as he said, but whether that was a good trait or not was left up to interpretation by other individuals who knew her. True, she was to blame for Erk's injury at the hands of that Ganelon archer, so even though she had healed him, Serra still felt it was necessary to take responsibility for rushing into the battle and contributing to the wound in her last letter.

That letter had been sent about a month and a half ago, so she didn't expect to receive word from Erk for quite a while, but a further unexpected surprise came in the form of another letter brought to her by a courier from Ostia's branch of the guild Erk spoke of. Upon his arrival he requested permission to see her and Serra at first believed he fell in love with her. After a somewhat hasty makeover to try and make a good first impression—even though the servant who came to relay the courier's advent repeatedly said she looked fine—Serra elegantly sauntered down to the main hall to greet her supposed 'lover'.

Although he complimented the young cleric on her appearance, he actually had a letter straight from Ilia addressed to her, and as her own letter to Erk was finished, she thought it coincidental or some strange stroke of luck that she would receive a letter, suspecting it was from one of her other friends from the campaign. It actually proved to be the latter once he gave it to her after she handed over hers with instructions to have it sent to the branch in the Nabata Desert. That was after he apologized for not reading it to her as she might've expected, since he explained that things were busy over at the Ostian branch for the past few days and he needed to return as soon as possible to make more deliveries. She hadn't minded since she preferred to read over the letter herself in peace and quiet while alone.

"There's no need to apologize," she had simply said as-a-matter-of-fact. "Although I may look like that sort of girl, I much rather enjoy reading my letters in tranquil solitude, away from prying eyes attempting to meddle in a lady's personal affairs."

If Matthew, Ostia's ever so cheerful spy, were around, he'd make a sarcastic comment about her preference to make Serra lose her composure in front of the courier. Fortunately, he'd been given time off so he could bring a few workers over to Valor, the Dread Isle and exonerate Leila from the cold soil of the island's coastal forest and be buried in a more suitable grave—one in her hometown so her family could be with her and Matthew could go and visit whenever he had a chance to.

Matthew wasn't the only one still grieving over the death of the woman whom he dearly loved. Lord Hector and Oswin felt it too, but the two of them continued to make progress not just for the deceased spy, but also for Hector's older brother, Uther, who passed away while they were fighting Nergal's forces. The memories of the former Marquees of Ostia still lingered in their hearts like the leaves on the gentle gale of the wind, always blowing around through the air until they settled down on the ground before being lifted up again by another gust.

When they last saw Uther, it had been after Eubans' mercenary force attacked them in a ruined fortress between Thria and Ostia. The assault came at the worst possible time, for Nils lost consciousness from exhaustion. Luckily Eubans was slain by Heath, one of the mercenaries under his command who promptly switched sides after Priscilla and Lord Eliwood offered him an invitation to fight alongside them when he surrendered his lance. Having an honorable Wyvern rider on their side was a blessing, and with his assistance Eubans and the mercenaries under his command were all routed again, just as they had been defeated back in Laus when they attempted to reclaim the castle. A few stragglers managed to escape, but five months earlier Serra had heard from Oswin that they were all hunted down by several of Worde's soldiers while on patrol around the territory's borders.

Serra also felt the pain that came after gazing upon Leila's corpse and hearing word of Uther's passing, but while she was able to move on with encouraging words of wisdom from Lord Hector, she couldn't bring herself to forget how hurt she was over the spy's death. Without her, the cleric felt that she'd lost a most valuable treasure in the form of a dear friend, somehow whom she was compelled to share her thoughts, feelings, and all her inner secrets with. To Serra, Leila wasn't just a close friend, but an older sister who'd always be there for her when nearby. Now she was dead, a decaying corpse in the dirt, but the memories of her were still there in Serra's heart and she would never forgot all the days they spent together before the campaign.

Seven weeks after the fire dragon was felled by Archsage Athos' magic, she caught a brief glimpse of Matthew holding a small locket containing a sketch of him and Leila together, drawn when they both had some time off from their duties. Serra knew he loved her and mustered up the courage to approach him a short while later, sadly, but calmly, speaking of the sibling bond she shared with Leila and how happy she would've been to think of him as a brother once he married Leila. This took Matthew by surprise since it was unlike her, but eventually he regained his guard and softened up a little since he understood her meaning.

"Yeah…" He had said sadly while taking the locket from his pants' pocket and opening it up to look at the sketch of him and Leila again, a small, melancholic smile on his face. "I guess…that would've been nice…and I think…it still is."

Lost amidst those sweet, tender moments of nostalgia, her memories of that day still imprinted firmly on her mind, Serra had almost almost forgotten about the letter she just received. Tipping her head down slightly while raising the envelope, she scanned the front of its smooth, yet somewhat rough texture and noted that the letter was indeed for her. At first she had thought it was from one of Lady Florina's two sisters, Fiora or Farina, but she supposed it could've also been from Canas—either them or another of her friends whom had probably been traveling through Ilia.

The sooner she went to her chamber to read over the letter, the sooner she discovered that it had not come from a friend, but from a completely different person whom Serra had never met before in her life.

It was Lord Hector who first heard the squeals of delight originating from within her room on route to the library in search of a bestiary on Ostian wildlife. Recently bears had moved into a nearby cave and were praying on travelers and merchant caravans on the road close by, so the Marquess wanted to read up on them to get a good idea on the specifics of this species—namely their behaviors, eating habits, where they were most likely to be located, among other characteristics. Yet the sound of her usual sparkling voice which could charm anyone foolish—and very brave for that matter—enough to fall in love with her, drew him towards her chamber instead. She was very good cleric, he could give her that, but it wasn't like he was attracted to her; rather, she sounded way more cheerful than she normally was. Upon reading the letter's contents Hector began to understand why she was so happy.

The letter was three weeks old to date, sent quite recently from a girl named Seri, who claimed to be Serra's twin sister. Hector had been aware that Serra was born in Etruria and was mistreated in a convent located around the border between Ostia and Etruria, where she learned the teachings of St. Elimine, but he honestly never expected to discover a surprising detail of her past, especially when Serra had no idea there was someone out in Ilia who looked exactly like her. Her true life story was mostly blank save for her homeland and life in the convent and how it contributed to her personality, so the circumstances of this sudden message certainly were compelling at that. Of course, she participated in the campaign against Nergal and helped Lyn deal with her evil uncle, so it at first appeared natural people in Ilia would know Serra after hearing of her from Canas and Florina's sisters.

Then again, it could've been a group of bandits trying to kidnap the young, nineteen year old cleric and hold her for ransom, or perhaps an assassin drawing out his mark like a lamb to the slaughter. Yet even they, in Erk's words, some of the hardiest criminals in all of Elibe, would flee after spending no more than five minutes in Serra's company. It'd take a villain with the coldest heart and the calmest mind to deal with someone like her, so he guessed it was unlikely she'd fall victim to bandits or assassins.

Besides, Ilia's Pegasus knights were among the finest soldiers on the continent. Their eyes were like those of hawks', enabling them to spot trouble from high up in the sky, so it was likely safe to assume Serra would be fine on her own with them in her company. After discussing his thoughts and concerns with her, Hector made the decision to let Serra travel to Ilia. This was the first time she'd be visiting a dear family member she never met, so it was a good idea to allow her the time to acquaint herself with her supposed twin sister and learn more about her past, if this Seri knew the details of whatever had happened. Only then would he and everyone close to her be able to understand the harsh life Serra lived for much of her childhood.

And so Serra began to pack her things while Hector returned to the dilemma of the bears after a brief deter to ask his wife, Florina, to write to her sisters informing them of Serra's plans and to request they aid her in any way they can until she reached her destination, Twilit Rest, the village where Serra was to meet up with Seri as arranged in her letter.

The carriage ride to the village was long and bumpy once she crossed the border into Ilia, and Fiora and Farina flew above the trees on their Pegasi because the trees were so tall, but Serra was fine with that. She'd be okay so long as she could finally meet her sister. She anticipated the long awaited arrival at Twilit Rest and counted the seconds passing by until the carriage reached the village and she said her goodbyes to Lady Florina's sisters.

From there, she was finally ready to meet Seri…

Now though…things were different, or…they seemed to be. Serra couldn't tell anymore. She didn't know if she had seen Seri yet and for some odd reason her mind suddenly went blank. The young cleric from Ostia couldn't tell how much time passed since her arrival in the small hamlet where arrangements were made for her anticipated appearance ever since the letter came, as she had been told by the innkeeper when she stepped into his shoddy little excuse for an inn.

The appointed time, where Twilit Rest sat within Ilia, Seri, not a thing came to mind.

Serra could remember coming here and for what purpose. She didn't recall anything that happened as of late in between then and now. Even now as she lay on a disgustingly, dusty bed in a room with nothing else beside it save for a measly little stool that could barely be called a table and a narrow cabinet so thin a very skinny person like her could fit inside if she went in sideways, Serra's mind was oblivious. She wasn't a forgetful person and she most definitely, most certainly didn't empty her brain to clear it of any useless memories which could be purged to make room for more important memories. Yes, she was perfectly fine if she could overlook the odd state of trauma her body was somehow experiencing and the even odder memory loss.

She wanted to get up, to stand on her own two feet and walk out that door to head down the hall and the stairs to the tavern below, where she was supposed to meet Seri. That's what she was supposed to do, right? Serra did come here for that, did she?

A sudden clap of thunder jolted her eyes wide open, her breath catching in her throat and escaping her mouth in brief, jagged bursts.

No, her sister wasn't here! Serra remembered now! She had brought her here to the inn where they sent for a carriage back to Ostia! Right—except…where was Seri?

The bed was too small for two people to lay on it and she had been watching over Seri whilst she slept, guarding her from some forgotten dread which successfully fled her memory. Yet here Serra was, lying on this very bed, the one her sister was supposed to be sleeping on. What was she doing on it anyway? Had Seri noticed she was tired herself and suggested to take up the watch for a bit, or did she actually put her there?

Serra's heart beat uncontrollably as if she was to suffer a heart attack any moment. Her whole body trembled so badly she'd likely collapse if she were to stand.

Seri wasn't in the room with her. Where could she have run off to?

Serra didn't know, but her objective was clear. Find Seri and flee from this place.

Screw the damn carriage. They wouldn't wait for it if it hadn't come yet or bother to send for another one if it already left. Even if it was still here, they'd take it regardless of whether or not the outrider was present. Serra could take the reins and have Seri sit next to her or in the carriage; either or was fine so long as her sister was safe and sound.

Unfortunately she didn't seem to have the will to stand as she had suspected. Her legs were so shaky she might fall over should she get to her feet.

"C-come on!" she wheezed, gasping for breath in the hope her nerves would stop panicking and settle down. "S-stand up! You c-can d-do it!" Serra's voice was as shaky as her body, but she couldn't let fear overcome her, lest it made her do something irrational that risked losing Seri in the process.

Crying in agonizing pain, Serra finally forced herself into a sitting position so she could collect her bearings before finally setting both feet on the creaky wooden floorboards beneath her. The sound was like a dying animal writhing in pain as it took its final breaths before succumbing to the cold bony fingers of death, grating to the cleric's ears so much she felt she'd break down crying like a timid child. Once more it took a final ounce of strength to pull her off, but the lack of much effort remaining left her in a weak state. Falling to the side, Serra threw her hands against the wall for balance and stayed there until her state of disorientation passed.

"O-okay, you're good…" she whispered to herself, forcefully trying to keep as calm as possible. "I'm fine. I'm okay…I'm okay. I'm alright. Okay…okay…okay…" Her breathing was labored, growing heavier with each breath. It wouldn't be a good thing to become seized by a sudden heart attack this moment as Serra had no idea when or if she'd recover. Fortunately her balance was now steady and her sight returned to normal after clearing away the blur.

Ever so slowly she turned her head to gaze out the open door to the walls outside, crying "Seri! Seri, you there!" Serra expected her sister's answer, to hear Seri's sweet voice amongst the storm raging outside, and oh how she longed to behold the girl in her presence once more!

But there was no reply. Nobody answered. The inn was quiet. So much so not even one of those large sized rats she first encountered in the room the first night here scuffled about the floor or squeaked for that matter. Those nasty things gave her quite a fright when she felt a few scamper across her feet, including the one that almost crawled up her leg. Now, all was silent.

Serra staggered into the hall. "Seri! Seri, where are you?! Are you there?!"

Still no answer, no response, no nothing.

Why was this place so damned quiet, save for the floorboards? They obviously had much to say about the soles of people's feet which occasionally walked over them every once in a while to dust the place off despite there being no real point to do so. Yes, the soles of an individual's feet and his or her footfalls spoke volumes about the person in question, but what volumes they were, only the floorboards knew the answer and all else the soles could relate.

The first door on the left was ajar, leaving enough room to peer in and search the premise, but to truly find anything Serra would need to actually enter and look around. It was somewhat likely the room would look the same as the one she stepped out of, but a peek didn't hurt. Although, to peek was to peer through the crack or some small hole, not to step within and pull things around this way and that in a meticulous hunt for something of aid to her quest.

What did it matter anyway? Nobody was in the room at this moment—the inn might've been empty too—and although the person in question could've returned any moment, it was unlikely the individual would come this second. Besides, there could've been something useful in there, a clue pointing her in the right direction of where Seri would be found.

As the older sister—Serra learned that from Seri's letter—it was Serra's duty to protect her twin. She was very frightened and more of a coward than a fighter, but her sister's life could've been at stake! If she ran off without Seri, Serra would never forgive herself for the horrible sin she'd commit.

Although hesitant, it was now or never. She couldn't stand there helplessly like a timid child, even if that was part of her nature.

Taking a deep breath, Serra quietly stepped over to the door and pushed it forward an inch. Her voice was nearly a whisper when she called out, "Hello? Anyone in here?" Upon receiving no response she went in and found it was just as she expected. Same kind of room, different layout. The closet was shut, but opening it revealed a flint and a piece of steel on the bottom next to a tinderbox. As there was a small candle perched upon the stool, Serra crouched down and opened the tinderbox, removing the little bit of tinder from the case to set it atop the candle. She flicked the flint against the steel until a tiny spark ignited the tinder.

Holding her hands up to the candle for a few moments to warm them up, Serra breathed a sigh of relief. "There…" she said softly, "it's not bright enough, but it'll make do. At least it adds a little of light to this dark, gloomy place." Not wanting to be branded a thief by stealing it, she opted to leave the only source of light and the means to create it where they were in case the individual returned. Exiting the now dimly lit room, Serra turned to continue down the hall, stopping two steps later at another door to try it, though it was locked.

"Hello, is someone in there?" she called again and still only received silence. Were the doors in this place really so thick? But then, why were they easy to push and pull? It didn't seem like they were thick. It didn't really matter anyway so long as she had the strength to open them.

Serra sighed again, tipping her head down. "Guess there's a key for this somewhere…"

It was only then she remembered her healing staff and rushed back to the room she first started in, but it wasn't in the closet where she left it earlier. Without it she'd have no way to heal any of her or Seri's wounds. "Where could it be?" Serra inquired frantically, her nerves beginning to tense up once more. "I know I put it in her before. Who could've taken it?"

The sudden sound of a door closing downstairs got her attention. Instantly she whirled around and ran back out into the hall. "Who's there?!" she yelled at the top of the stairs. "Is someone down there?!" Breathing heavily, cold sweat trickled down her forehead as her heart beat spiked in her chest. "Please, I need my staff and I must find my sister! Hey! Anybody!"

Silence. Maybe the inn was empty after all.

With a shaky hand, Serra took hold of the railing. Firmly grasping it in her hands, she inhaled a breath of air to soothe her frayed nerves and quietly went down. Nobody was home as she initially suspected. The joint was quiet. No tavern keeper, no serving wench, no patrons, nobody. It was as if this place had been abandoned.

There were three doors: the one in the far corner went outside; the second underneath the stairs, the basement; and finally the adjacent carriage house behind the bar. They all sounded the same when she first heard each of them on her first visit, so Serra heard either one of them. But which one was it? Instinctively, she went for the first to go out.

"_My apologies—"_

"Seri?!" Serra whirled around, but Seri wasn't there. No one was.

"_-I've had to lock the mine up on my way over."_

"_Don't want anybody taking your precious gold, eh?"_

"_It was a silver mine. I've orders to close it up each time I pass through."_

"_And the miners are alright with that?"_

"_It's abandoned. Now, please don't divert from my master's business."_

"_Oh, so you're my client's servant, is that it?"_

"_Indeed. By his order, I am to hand this to you. He says you are to follow the instructions straight to the letter."_

"_Hmmm…I see...eh, hold on a minute, you're leaving already?"_

"_I was ordered to present it to you here, whereupon I'm to immediately return and finish cleaning the keep."_

"_Servant work, I take it? Very well, I shan't keep you any longer."_

"_Then our business is concluded. Good day to you, sir."_

Those voices…one of them sounded distinctly like Seri. Serra was sure of it, despite having no recollection of hearing her sister's voice in however long ago she last saw her. When did that happen? How did she know that was most certainly Seri's voice?

Serra shook her head and put a hand to her temple. _"Come on, Serra, think girl,"_ she thought to herself, _"get yourself together. Seri's not dead. Of course she's not. She has to be somewhere in this place, unless she already left for—what was that place she mentioned…the silver mine? She's got to be there, I just know it."_

An even better question was what sort of affair did she have with this man—it definitely sounded like a man for sure. Seri delivered something to him and he likely left already or was far away someplace else still doing the job or having finished it by now. Either way, Serra didn't like that man simply from the sound of his voice. It seemed like he was almost…like some sort of bandit or petty thief hired by…Seri's master, she took it.

Putting her plans on hold temporarily, she weaved through the mess of tables and chairs still neatly placed about and stepped behind the bar. A ledger sat on a little stool at the other end. Serra went over and picked the book up, placing it on the counter while squinting to make out the words in the darkness of the room.

_February 14—_

_Name: Isaac_

_Paid 20 gold to spend one night. Arrived for business wit Count. Warned not to get involved, didn't give two shits. Don't want nothin ta do wit what matters he got's with Count._

…

_October 28—_

_Name: Serra_

_Paid 20 gold to spend one night after a fuss when told arrangements weren't made. Came from some place called Ostia over in Lycia to see Count's maid. Claims to be her twin sister. Told her to git out. Obnoxiously loud and annoying. Threw letter in ma face from maid. Don't want ta interfere an ave ma head on Count's pike. Gave her a room long she don't speak to me or the whole bloody town. Don't want her bringing anything back from his place when she returns, else we'll run her out. Better if she don't return._

"Wha…" Baffled, Serra stared at the words in astonishment as she read through the ledger once more. She understood the man—Isaac, was it?—had come on business to see someone with a high social status, a Count to be specific. On the other hand, the innkeeper's claim that no such arrangements were made for her arrival in Twilit Rest when Seri's letter obviously stated preparations had been undertaken was certainly suspicious.

If she were to recall correctly, he yelled for her to pack up and leave Twilit Rest before she got into an argument with him, showing her sister's letter as proof of the scheduled meeting. He recognized the signature along with the writing and immediately shut up, handing over a key after she forked over twenty gold coins. From what he wrote in this ledger, the innkeeper seemed to be intimidated by the Count.

In fact, the other villagers looked at her with suspicion the very next day as they were attending to their own business now that Serra thought about it, so maybe they wanted her gone too. Perhaps it was because they were also afraid of this Count. The populace glared at her when she so much as made a remark about her sister and many very well flinched at the utterance of Seri's name in public.

Everywhere she went, the villagers were busy with their work, whether it be farming what little of the land they could, hunting the wildlife out in the forest, or fishing in that small river running by the cemetery. A general store was located across from the inn and around fifteen homesteads surrounded the main area which included both buildings. There was no blacksmith because the mine had been abandoned and wasn't in use any longer, save for being a tunnel—coincidently, Seri had to go through the mine to get to…

Wait, what was place called again? Serra couldn't remember. It was all so fuzzy. There was an empty space in her brain. She didn't know what once filled it, but was well aware it had to do with what happened after she showed up in Twilit Rest.

She shook her head and placed a hand to her temple. "At least I know who that guy she spoke with is…I'll have to ask her about him later."

Looking behind her, Serra spotted a tiny rack with a single key dangling from a hook. "This has to be for one of these doors," she said while turning her gaze to each one around her. The question was, which one: any of the ones down here or that locked door upstairs? Obviously she might as well have tried it upstairs to eliminate one possibility, and perhaps finish the rather brief exploration up there. Maybe it really was the key to that room.

Returning to the second floor, Serra stepped in front of the door and inserted the key into the lock. She heard it click upon turning it to the right and pushed the door open after removing the key. "Doesn't seem like the innkeeper is really into decorating this place," she muttered a comment on the lack of decor, "It's barely furnished it for guests, but I suppose he can't afford much since this is just a simple backwater village." He'd surely throw a fit if he'd been around to hear her, but Serra was more concerned about uncovering clues to the mine's location so she could make a beeline for the place and retrieve Seri.

The room might not have had much—just the same furniture as in the other two rooms up here—but a slip of paper on the stool caught her eye and she picked it up. Since it was too dark to read and she didn't want to squint again because it might eventually hurt her eyes, Serra brought it into the other room and read it in the candlelight.

_Post-Scouring year 981, February 14__th__:_

_My client's servant showed up this evening as I was finishing up my dinner. I expected him to show up instead, but I guess he has other duties to attend to. She handed me instructions for this job he's hired me to do and requires me to use the contacts he's listed. This is quite a hefty job from the looks of it—should take me about a month or two to complete—but the pay sounds worth it. I haven't made a haul of gold this big since I fled the Etrurian authorities._

_From what gossip I gathered in this bloody place, the villagers apparently despise my client. They advised me to avoid him and not ask questions—the latter of which I never do since it ruins good business. Some of them suggested I pack my things and leave, though the pay's too good to give up so soon. If it wasn't much and I wasn't desperate, I just might go._

_Just to venture a guess, I'd say these people are also afraid of him. Who wouldn't be? I don't know how this guy collects taxes since he allows them to live on his land, but they sure as hell don't make much of a ruckus about it. They're very tightlipped over what goes on here, almost as if their lives are on the line._

This page from what most likely was a journal owned by that man, Isaac, seemed to confirm the fact that the innkeeper was afraid of this Count, yet it also expanded upon by that generalizing the fear throughout the entire village. Nobody here seemed to like the man, yet none had the courage to go against him. Perhaps all they could do was publicly state their opinion of him. He probably didn't seem to care, though, for she heard nothing of the sort in which he took drastic action in response to their personal feelings towards him.

However, what bothered Serra wasn't this snippet of information, but another serious matter made clear in this note.

"A thief?! Seri spoke with a common brigand?!"

Serra's eyes widened in shock at this sudden realization, her hands trembling slightly as she held the paper. Did her sister know what sort of man Isaac was?! Had she not read the message written out for him?! Was she even aware Isaac fled from authorities in Etruria?!

Serra's breathing grew heavier and her heartbeat spiked in her chest, cold chills running down her spine as if she'd been touched by a ghost.

No! She crumpled the page into a ball and threw it at the opposite wall. It wasn't true! Seri wouldn't dare mingle with criminals! She was a smart girl with a strong sense of morality knowing how to tell right from wrong! She wouldn't serve some greedy aristocrat or work with criminals—especially in the middle of nowhere! She…

Serra's eyes grew wider.

What were Seri's morals? Did her sister do things like this of her own volition, or was she forced to make the wrong decision? Surely the latter, as Serra couldn't—_didn't_ want to comprehend the fact her sister served a corrupt noble. It had to be that.

Taking a deep breath, she exhaled and inhaled some more, trying to focus on her objective. "Okay, Serra," she whispered to herself, "don't dwell on that. Just find Seri and get out of here. It's that simple." It would've been simple had she not any doubts of Seri knowing right from wrong, but they could go over those details together once they left Twilit Rest.

Suddenly Serra whirled around at the sound of a door creaking open. "Hello!" she shouted, running out into the hall and down the stairs into the tavern. "Is someone—" She stopped midsentence at the sight of the carriage house door halfway open, a burst of cold air blowing inside. Serra would've called out again, but she stood frozen, rooted to the spot upon hearing what sounded like a growl in there. Footsteps followed suit and afterwards the huge door leading outside from the carriage house slammed shut.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Serra approached the nearby window, her heart racing as she started to tremble while getting closer to the curtain. Her hand shaking, she reached out to catch the fabric in her grip and carefully pulled it away. Peeking out into the cold, stormy night, Serra could make out a shadow moving along the ground each time the thunder struck. She noticed its gait was odd when lightning struck. It looked unnatural, almost like the person was limping on one foot while walking away. Serra was unable to make out the individual's physical features, but curiosity begged what may have been an important inquiry.

What was that person doing in the carriage house? It didn't look like he was the outrider or the innkeeper for that matter, though Serra knew it had to be a man. Could it have been one of the other villagers coming in to find one of the two men or to look for something?

Feeling like she couldn't leave this mystery unsolved, Serra entered the carriage house to investigate. "What were you up to in here?" she whispered to herself as she turned to gaze at her surroundings, unsure of what she might discover.

Within seconds she saw one of the wheels from the carriage lying on the ground and knelt down to examine it. Judging by how a huge chunk of it was shattered, the missing part now in pieces all around the spot, Serra guessed she and Seri wouldn't be riding out of Twilit Rest anytime soon. But what had the strength to damage this wheel? It appeared a single blow was dealt, but none of the tools around the room could've caused it.

A thump from within the carriage drew her attention to the door of the vehicle. For whatever reason, the corner of the carriage wasn't tipping down with nothing to hold its weight. Serra obviously thought something heavy was inside and was about to check it out when she noticed a thick liquid leaking through the cracks of the door. "Is that…" she whispered softly, nervously bending over to examine the substance, "b-blood?"

Tremulously, Serra lifted her head up to gaze at the window. Her eyes widened at the sight of blood spatters. Instinctively, she gasped in fright and stood upright, backing away slowly from the carriage and shrieked when she suddenly tripped over a plank of wood and fell back. Serra winced in pain and sat up to rub her back while she brushed bits of dirt out of her hair. After dusting herself off, she returned her attention to the carriage and stared at it fearfully. "I-I don't have t-to look inside…d-do I-I?" Her voice was shaky as she spoke to herself. Some of the words came out stuttered while others sounded softer than the rest.

Serra had seen plenty of horrid wounds and gruesome corpses in the days of her adventure to Caelin and the fight against Nergal. She was used to this kind of thing when it was out in the open, but was still afraid to know how bad the injury was or what condition the corpse was in when it had been hidden, waiting to be discovered by surprise.

Mentally mulling over whether opening the door was a smart idea or not, Serra figured she'd feel sick either way so there wasn't really much debate over. She either looked inside or not; it was her choice. Even a tiny peek was enough of an option.

Taking a deep breath, Serra closed her eyes to brace herself for what might happen. She'd pull the door open just a crack, just enough for her to determine if the thing inside was an animal or a person and if there was still life in the being. Serra wasn't sure if she could save anyone or anything from the cold, bony fingers of death, though she'd do her best in performing an autopsy to make a good diagnosis on the cause and time of death.

She swallowed heavily and approached the door, her trembling hand reaching for the knob. Biting her lower lip, Serra mentally counted to three and took another deep breath. Moments later she gradually pulled the door towards her. A hand slipped out through the opening and dangled over the ground. Kneeling down to examine it, Serra shuddered upon recognizing the scar on the back of the hand. "Moriarty, the outrider…"

It was without a doubt, Moriarty. He was the one who picked her up on the outskirts of Carrhae while traveling back from Remi. Moriarty was a gruff, but polite man, though the odd part about him was his sudden silence when she brought up her sister. It was as if he didn't want to continue the topic, and it became apparent when he changed the subject. If on any other occasion, Serra would've forced him to speak up, but this time she didn't.

The tone of his voice along with the peculiar shudder she noticed indicated that he seemed…afraid of something. Serra guessed it had to do with Seri, and while she was offended, she let the matter drop entirely because for all she knew, something was indeed…off in regards to the outrider's physical stature. He was a tall, burly man of thirty-seven, whereas Serra was nineteen; she was young and he was older than she was. That was certainly, most definitely baffling to her as she had only just met him that day, so first impressions were a little meager.

Stifling her discomfort at the sight of his corpse, Serra closed her eyes and winced as she stood up and stepped around the door. With much hesitation, she cracked an eyelid open slightly before slowly opening them once around half a minute passed. Sure enough, Moriarty was dead in every sense of the word, his corpse lying face up on the seat. Closer examination revealed a gaping hole in his chest, internal organs having been pushed through it when whatever killed him was yanked out by the assailant. That much Serra was certain of.

The one thing which evaded her deduction was what sort of weapon had been used. Surely not a sword because the injury was too wide, nor an axe for the wound was too deep. Neither could a bow have done this as the arrows were nowhere to be found, plus the tips were too small. A lance could've done the trick with the sharp end being small enough to puncture the chest allowing for the rest of the weapon to push through; although, that too was unlikely since Moriarty's chest looked to have been _smashed_ in by a single blow. Furthermore, a lance would've forced the outer edge of the wound to expand outward. Even a rapier, a weapon favored by the nobility, was out of the question due to the thin blade.

"A mace, maybe," Serra commented, her voice lowered to a whisper. If so, then it would have to be a big mace at that. The weapon preference could narrow down the list of suspects in the outrider's murder, but the young cleric had not a clue as to who wielded the weapon. She was an outsider in Twilit Rest, knowing few of the inhabitants who didn't appear to be common criminals. At the same time, however, they could blame her for Moriarty's death, claiming he died by her hand. Such an accusation was untrue without evidence to back it up, yet Serra believed they'd most definitely jump to that conclusion immediately.

If Serra was to prove her innocence, she had to leave the crime scene _now_. Gathering evidence would have to wait until she was a safe distance away and after she found her sister.

Therefore, Serra went back through the door into the inn and started for the front door when a sudden scream startled her so badly she tripped and fell over a chair, banging her side against a table. After it fell onto its side she instinctively hid behind the table and threw a quick glance at the basement door. Serra heard moaning coming from the other side and questioned whether or not she open the door to make sure whoever screamed was alright, but the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs kept her immobilized.

At once she covered her mouth to prevent her jagged breathing from giving away her position and attempted to keep her trembling at a minimum. Concealing herself once more, Serra couldn't stop herself from lowering her hands to take a brief breath. Her mind was racing, she didn't know what was going on, and she felt exposed to the killer even behind the table. The same thought, _"Please don't find me, please don't find me, please don't find me!"_ repeated over and over in her head. Serra's stomach churned with dread and she almost threw up, but luckily she held the vomit in as best she could.

The footsteps were practically at the top right now, their maker on the other side of the door ready to flee before getting caught. If possible, Serra could relate this harrowing experience to the villagers to prove her innocence. She just needed to acquire a good look at the criminal and check to see if the murderer's profile matched up with anyone they were aware of. Although, that meant sticking her head out to actually _stare_ at the culprit longer than a one second glimpse, and Serra wasn't too happy about it. The chair she just fell over could be used as some sort of weapon since she could snap a leg off and wield it like a stake, but unfortunately she wasn't that courageous. Furthermore, she was unsure of how much damage she could do with a piece of wood that was more brittle than the rustiest piece of iron.

Serra was about to make a run for it, but a sudden grunt rooted her to the spot. All at once she became more terrified than she already was because that grunt didn't sound normal. It was almost…_inhuman…_like an animal or something. And it sounded aggressive too, because a split second after she heard it, a door cracked open. Serra surmised that it was the basement door since it came from behind her and the front door was several feet to her right and still intact. She would've escaped through that door by now had she not felt petrified right about now.

More strikes followed seconds later. The door was mostly destroyed by the time Serra heard the final blow, yet whatever had wanted to step through the threshold was too big to even fit through the opening. Once that last one made an impact and shattered what was left of the door, the Ostian cleric stayed perfectly still as the mysterious entity—whatever it was—shambled across the room, growling and snarling in a more docile manner rather than the fit of rage it had just been in.

It was too dark to see just what kind of creature it was, but Serra definitely didn't want to. _"J-just let i-it b-be,"_ she reasoned, her thoughts stuttering the words, _"d-don't offend i-it or c-come out of hiding. J-just s-stay p-put and d-don't move…"_

Evidently the creature apparently walked right by without giving her presence a second thought. It mustn't have noticed her trembling uncontrollably against the fallen table, or even snagged a whiff of her scent. The thing casually sauntered through the carriage house door and from what Serra could hear, it actually opened the enormous double doors without breaking them into pieces like it did with the other one just now. Finally it stepped out into the rain that was now easing up and vanished, just like that.

Serra waited a few minutes after its departure to calm down and to be sure it wouldn't return. When it appeared she was all alone again, she came out of hiding and turned to where the shattered door once stood. In its place was an empty frame still occupied by chunks of sharp wood, gaping wide open as if it were a person preparing to devour some food.

What could the creature have been doing down there, and who could've screamed? Searching her mind for anyone remotely familiar, Serra recalled the gruff tone of voice the innkeeper took with her. He had a very thick, Ilian accent and spoke with the air of a common villager one could find in pretty much any rural location in Elibe where there was farmland along local trade routes deep in the country.

According to a book she once read, entitled _"Life, Culture, and Society of Rural Folk"_ by a Lycian scholar named Darren Weitz, inns were common in a rural community and could also be located along roads merchants and others frequently traveled on. The book went into great detail on the general conduct of villagers, how they worked and what tools they utilized, and how the people functioned as a community among other things. If she were to delve deeper into her memory, and of course she certainly did, she would recall spotting a brief allusion to this village on page 289 in the chapter on local folklore. But the page's contents were elusive as it never really stood out to her then. Now Serra supposed she should've spent more time thinking about what it said and possibly look into more material on the subject, if any.

However, this wasn't the time to be concerned with information she couldn't acquire yet. She needed to find Seri before something awful happened to her and take the poor girl away, out of Twilit Rest for good.

Serra suspected the innkeeper might've known something, a possible lead to point her in the right direction. She could do something to help him if he was still alive down there. There might've been some bandages to wrap around whatever wounds he accumulated from the creature that just left. He still probably wouldn't trust her, but Serra desperately needed his help.

And so, Serra took a few deep breaths to soothe her frayed nerves before attempting to stand. She still felt pretty shaky on her feet and had to grip the table while counting to ten in her head to calm herself. By then she was feeling courageous enough to investigate the basement to see what had happened. Surely it'd be a bloody mess with debris and junk thrown about, though Serra would be able to find her way about the chaos if she was careful enough.

Without further ado she stood upright and slowly walked over to the doorway as quietly as she could. Peering down into the tenebrous darkness Serra swallowed heavily to clear her throat before calling out to anyone there. "Hello! Is someone down there?!"

She waited a few moments for a response, but none came.

"If anybody can hear me, please stay where you are! I'll get to you, just hold on!"

Serra quickly turned her head to look for something she could wield as a weapon to defend herself and others from danger. Seeing as there wasn't, she rushed to a chair and heaved it up before smashing the thing against the wooden floor. She had hoped to break off a leg or two and utilize them as wooden stakes. The first blow cracked one, but didn't fully separate it until the second strike caused it to snap right off. That was fine since she didn't need another one unless it was absolutely necessary. With the poorly made stake firmly in her grasp, Serra proceeded down the stairs into the basement.

It was incredibly dark—nothing a little bit of light couldn't cure. Although Serra wished there were some candles down here with more tinderboxes for a bit of light, the darkness settled it for her nonetheless. She'd need to pick her way over any debris in her way as best she could so as not to trip over something. The idea of getting that candle from upstairs was pleasing right about now, but Serra didn't want to risk starting a fire if she did trip and accidently drop it.

She closed her eyes for a few moments and swallowed before taking a deep breath. Serra stood still and waited so her eyes could adjust to the darkness when she opened them. Her sight wouldn't be as good as in the light, but at least she'd be able to pick out some things a couple feet in front of her along with the outlines of other stuff a bit further. Upon seeing that the floor in front of her was clear with what appeared to be two organized stacks of wood near her right foot, Serra carefully inched her way deeper, making sure to step over any junk or debris that could've tripped her.

As soon as she neared the center of the room, just next to a counter with three medium sized boxes on top, two doors became known as their outlines barely came into view. Serra tried the one closest to her, but it was locked. A note on the outer frame caught her attention and she had to squint in order to make out what it said.

_Anyone wants in to see me afterhours, key's in the next room with old ledgers. Lock up afterwards, put it back._

The instructions were practical, yet they also begged for the key to be stolen. Who'd keep something that valuable out in the open for a thief to take, especially when this note said where it could be found? Serra knew the innkeeper may not have been an educated man like all the other inhabitants of this village despite whatever impressions she received from him, but at least he could've been capable of safeguarding a simple key.

Then again, who'd want to steal from this rundown village in a hole? Serra was aware that there wasn't anything of value to be found in a backwoods settlement like Twilit Rest mostly because living in Ostia had instilled in her the notion that society outside a majestic castle town was largely rural and could've been as dull and dreary as riding a horse through an empty field and finding nothing there. However biased her opinion was, Serra meant no offense even if this village reinforced her belief, but she wasn't here to criticize the populace for something like that.

Turning away from the door, she slowly shuffled over to the other one and pushed it forward. Stepping inside, Serra noted how small it appeared to be and very easily found her way over to a desk near several stacks of books. Obviously this place could use some renovations; a wall or two could be removed allowing for more space and bookshelves to hold all these old ledgers and possibly put some candelabras along the walls. Regardless of how beneficial the new additions would be, it'd be overly expensive for a local to pay. Folks around parts like the surrounding area were usually poor and couldn't afford to fix up their homes since they received meager wages for the crops they grew and any manual labor they've been hired for.

In any case, Serra's priority was to find that key and hopefully uncover something in the other room that would be of aid in her search for Seri. She pulled out the top two drawers and lit a candle on the desk with a tinderbox and a set of flint and steel from the middle one. Upon checking the bottom drawer, she found that key along with a brief note.

_Make sure you're ready for tonight. Our village has lived in fear for years. It's time for action so we may take back our lives for good. You're either with us or the cravens. Make your choice by sundown today. Come to the Mill if you're prepared._

What did this mean? What were these people attempting to enact?

Serra had no idea what was going on in the village, but she made it a point to visit the Mill and find out before going after Seri.

Now with that key in hand, she returned to the locked door and inserted the rusty piece of metal into the lock, turning it until she heard a click. After removing the key and pulling the door open, Serra stepped past the threshold and gasped as she immediately spotted a trail of blood thanks to the moonlight seeping in from a small window. "E-excuse me…" she stuttered nervously, trembling while peering around a desk, "a-are you al-"

She immediately threw her back to the wall and slumped to the floor, stifling a horrified scream as tears of fright welled up in her eyes at the sight of a male corpse on the other side of the room. The stake fell from her hands and bounced on the ground once before rolling into a small crevice Serra would have difficulty locating. Her earlier state of disorientation immediately resurfaced as she shut her eyes and turned away, resisting the urge to vomit and flee. It took a lot of strength for her to finally turn back and gaze upon the freshly slain cadaver, though Serra wished she hadn't.

The wounds on the body had been made rather haphazardly and his innards were thrown about, enormous blood spatters covering the whole area around him. He seemed to have some life left after the first attack because it appeared he squirmed over to the corner where an unused axe sat by the wall. It was caked in blood, yet there was no way it could've been the murder weapon since some of those innards would've still been stuck to it. There were claw marks all over the body and an arm had been completely ripped off, thrown to the nearby bed on which the innkeeper, who this latest victim most likely was, laid upon when he went to sleep at night.

Common sense dictated she should run and report the crime to the local authorities, yet the townsfolk would've already been mistrustful of her. She could've done just that, but deep down she knew it was her duty to investigate for her sister's sake if not anyone else.

There was certainly no way she'd ever go near a dead body as gruesome as this one, that was for sure. However, something caught her eye from a drawer which had been removed from the closet close to the bed and thrown at the desk, or rather the innkeeper's corpse since that's what it was adjacent to. Some papers appeared to have fallen out onto the floor when it was used and scattered over the floor in a pile of clothes. Serra swallowed heavily and took a deep breath before slowly going to the mess and picking the papers out from the apparel, tossing the garments over to the side after collecting all she could gather. Some stuff made her wince in fear because the things were covered in some blood, but she made the decision not to take them. Wanting to get out of this basement as fast as possible, the young cleric went back up to Isaac's room and began shifting through the notes she found.

Some were just blank pieces of paper while others had several unimportant messages written on them. One note, however, revealed something of far greater significance to her.

_Post-Scouring year 981, November 5__th_

_Finally, after over nearly a full month of travel through urban Lycia, mountainous Bern, and the Sacaen plains, I've reached my destination in the forests of Ilia. It has taken a little longer than expected due to the weather and the harsh geographical conditions of Bern and Ilia, but my goal is now firmly within my grasp. She's so close I can almost feel her right beside me as I write this, as if she was my guide throughout the journey._

_About six weeks ago I've received word that I have a twin sister currently living in the heart of the Ilian forests. My excitement was tremendous. I just had to meet her right away to connect with somebody whom I've never known existed before. I was aware of my origins as an Etrurian noble yet I knew not what caused the downfall of whatever House I belonged to or even the family who raised me until I parted from royal life. Now I'm prepared to meet my twin after nineteen long years, during which I agonized over having no family of my own, save for Leila and Matthew back in Ostia. Although, the three of us were related by bond instead of blood, but now I've finally discovered there is someone who shares my heritage._

_Her name is Seri and she is working as a ward in a place known as Moon's Eclipse Keep. According to her letter, it's an old fortress that's been constructed into the side of a lone mountain several miles away from a quaint, backwater village called Twilit Rest. The populace is small and rather introverted from the rest of Ilia, though the inhabitants have been making a living there for over seven centuries. It sounds as if life in that particular area of Ilia is poor since Seri mentioned outsiders rarely step into the village proper, yet the people manage to make do with what they've got._

_As I write this, the villagers outside the window in the hallway go about their business much like in any other rural settlement I've visited. They're a quiet lot and tend to shy away from any matters related to Count Ulryk Chorrestico, a wealthy Caledonian noble._

_He is, as Seri described, a well-educated man with familial roots in several merchants' guilds and a deep interest in art, literature, history, and black magic. A scholar of international renown, he has travelled the whole of Elibe seeking artifacts and manuscripts of rare value to further his studies into the dark arts and its history along with how it impacted humanity._

_It is this passion for the darkness that the people of Twilit Rest are afraid of his power as a noble and a shaman of magic delving into the black abyss of the unknown. I, on the other hand, have nothing to fear because I'm not as uneducated as these peasants. Furthermore, I've had the pleasure to have acquainted with Canas, son of the legendary Druid, Niime, and know that not all practitioners of the dark arts are evil. If Seri says Count Ulryk has taken good care of her as I hope he did, I will trust her._

_Upon arriving in Twilit Rest I was told by the outrider, Moriarty, that Seri would come down to the village in a day's time and recommended that I learn more about this place by taking a stroll around the area. I'm to spend a night at the local inn and meet my sister there around noon where arrangements have been made for my arrival. Until then, I shall take the outrider up on his suggestion. Perhaps I'll browse the general store for a present I can give to Seri, seeing as how I had forgotten to get one before my departure from Ostia. I still don't know what she might like—maybe I'll pick up a diary for her when I go for one myself._

"My…m-my diary…" Serra whispered, her voice shaky as she spoke. She hadn't written in her other diaries because she finished them all and found no time to document anything because her duties as an Ostian cleric took precedence. Lately her responsibilities became more time-consuming, leaving her with little respite for starting a new one and she'd always be exhausted from a day's work to even begin or go out to purchase a new journal.

Fortunately, just as they were nearing Twilit Rest, Moriarty suddenly paused on the way to speak briefly with a traveling merchant coming down from the village. Hearing that some of the supplies he traded to the general store were journals, Serra decided to stop there after paying for a room at the inn and bought a pair for herself and Seri.

This entry hadn't been recorded in hers yet; Serra found a blank sheet of paper on one of the tables downstairs and wrote on that, placing it in the diary she got from the general store. The fact that it was in this pile of papers here raised a curious inquiry: where was her diary now? Was it somewhere in here or did she misplace it in the village?

Furthermore, could Seri be at this mysterious fortress known as Moon's Eclipse Keep and why exactly was her apparent master, Ulryk Chorrestico, studying black magic? What purpose did he have in delving into the dark arts?

At this point it mattered little whether she discovered anything or not since Seri's safety came first, though taking a bit of time to examine any clues that could clear this mystery up along the way didn't sound too bad. It probably might've been a good idea since Serra would learn more about her sister, seeing as how she somehow forgot everything about Seri for some odd reason.

Going to the hallway window, Serra peered out at the fog-covered village of Twilit Rest. Now that it stopped raining, the young cleric swallowed a lump in her throat as she went downstairs and over to the front door.

"Seri…" she said softly, grasping the knob in her hand, "please be safe. I promise to come for you right away."


End file.
